Tell Me You Love Her
by scubysnak
Summary: Sequel to Making Sara Sidle Stupid  A few of you asked for it and since the giving season is nearly upon, I'm indulging your request.  SaraSofiaSaraCatherinechapter 2 up
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'em….if I did, Sara would never leave.**

**A/N: I've been suffering from extreme writer's block and I'm hoping that writing some on these stories that people have requested a sequel or follow up to might give me inspiration to finish the chapter for the story SoFrost and I have been working on for like a decade now.**

I knew she'd go back to her apartment as soon as her shift was over. That's where she found me hours later, slumped against her door, a cigarette between my lips.

She reached down and pulled my one remaining vice from my mouth and tossed it over the railing.

She slid the key into the lock and opened her apartment door. Stepping around me and inside, she left the door open, an obvious invitation for me to join her inside.

I crossed her threshold, quietly closing the door behind me. She had already shed her jacket, tossing it onto the couch as she made her way to the kitchen. I watched as she opened her refrigerator and pulled out two bottles—one water and one beer. She tossed the water to me as she twisted the cap from her beer.

We both stood there in silence, each waiting for the other to break stillness that was enveloping us.

She crossed the room and settled into a large leather chair. I continued to stand there, sipping my water, waiting for her to speak.

This was a game we had played more times than I could count. She wasn't about to cave first and neither was I. In our previous relationship, she would have outlasted me. Tonight, she wouldn't.

"Did you come here to put on another show, Sidle?" Her voice was both cold and detached. I shuddered at the way my name rolled off her tongue.

Although she had found her voice, I was still at a loss for words. I had come here intent on settling things once and for all with her. I had wanted to move on—to move on with Catherine. And now, seeing her, smelling her, watching how her lips closed around the mouth of the beer bottle in her hands…now, I didn't know what I wanted.

"The Sara I once knew and the Catherine I always hated would never have found themselves in the position I caught them in today. What changed?" She stood up and closed in on my personal space.

I still couldn't answer. Although I had previously felt empowered and incredibly sexy when Sofia stood there watching Catherine fuck me, I suddenly felt dirty and guilty. I hung my head, unwilling to meet her demanding eyes.

"Tell me," she prodded. "Tell me what changed. How did you find yourself in her arms?"

I looked up into her emotionless eyes and opened my mouth to speak. No words came out. I closed my mouth and hung my head once again.

"You never were very good at communicating, were you Sara?" Her eyes travelled the length of my body—from head to toe—before she disappeared down the hall, a disapproving look painting her features as she obviously headed toward her bedroom.

I stood in the doorway to her bedroom, watching her undress. Without looking in my direction, she began to talk.

"I called you. I wrote you. Never once did you respond," the muscles in her back flexed as she removed her bra. "I missed you every day—more than I thought possible. I considered moving on, but instead," she stepped out of her pants and turned to face me, "all I did was move back. I came back here because of you."

Although I had seen her without clothes countless times before, this was the first time I had ever actually seen her naked. She was opening up in a way she never had before. I wanted to speak. There were so many things dancing on the tip of my tongue that my heart begged of me to say.

"Why her?" she moved closer to me. "Why on earth would you choose the one woman that made my skin crawl to replace me?" She was only a breath away from me. I could smell the distinct mixture of over-brewed coffee, stale cigarettes, and old leather that was Detective Sofia Curtis.

My arms encircled me in a protective embrace. I was never as weak as I was when I was in her presence. I wanted to reach out to her—to touch her—to taste her—to know her again.

"What happened to make you change so much, Sara? What I saw today—you and Catherine—you're not the woman I knew—at least not the woman I thought I knew."

She moved behind me and was as close as one person can get to another without actually touching them. My breath hitched in my throat.

"Did you like that I watched?" I could feel the warm dampness of her breath against my ear. "Did it turn you on more to know that I was standing there watching another woman fuck you? To fuck you in a way I never did? Did it?"

She placed her hands on my hips and when I didn't pull away, she slowly slid them to my waist and pulled me back, closing the almost nonexistent distance between us.

"When did you become such a bottom, Sara? When we were together….mmmm," she groaned into my ear, "it was you who fucked me like she fucked you today. Do you remember that?"

Her hands slid around and perched on my stomach. I still couldn't respond to her verbally, but my body was responding to her physically.

"Do you recall the fight we had before I left town?" She began to pull my shirt out of my pants and unbutton it. "You ended up bending me over the arm of your couch," I felt her body shudder against me as the memory swept over her. "You knew exactly how to touch my body, Sara. Every time," her hands slid up and cupped my breasts, "you touched me, I felt like I was going to explode. You knew my body like any great musician knows her instrument. You knew exactly when to pluck," she gently pinched my nipples, "exactly when to stroke," she rolled them between her fingertips, "and just how hard," she twisted them.

I leaned my head back against her shoulder.

Her tongue traced my ear before she gently bit on my earlobe. "She told you that she loved you. I heard her."

One of her arms circled me possessively, holding me tighter against her as her right hand easily slid into my pants. She alternated between sucking and kissing on my neck, careful to leave no marks.

"I didn't hear you say anything back to her."

Her fingers slid along the length of my folds, moving further between them with each passing stroke.

"Tell me you love her," she breathed into my ear as her finger pressed against my clit, making me buck backwards against her and moan.

"Tell me you love her," she whispered as she slid her hand inside my bra and twisted and pulled on my nipple.

"Tell me you love her," she said before sliding two fingers inside me and grazing my swollen nub with her thumb.

"Tell me," she said as she bit down forcefully where my neck and shoulder met.

My legs were giving out and I was finding it difficult to stand. If not for her arm holding me against her, I'd have long ago sank to the ground.

"Tell…" I cut her off. I spun around in her arms and using my leg, swept her feet from under her, sending her crashing to the floor on her back. I sank down on her immediately, straddling her.

"Tell you what?" I said as I pinned her arms down on either side of her head.

"Tell me you love her," she whispered. "Tell me you love her and I'll let you go."

"YOU. LEFT. ME," I said forcefully. "Was I supposed to wait and see if you ever came back? I moved on."

"Tell me you love her," she said weakly again.

"I…" I looked down into cerulean eyes and lost any resolve I might have had. "I don't love her…I love you."

Her eyes glistened with a mixture of tears, desire and love. She pulled herself into a seated position and circled her arms around me, showering me with kisses.

She pulled back and looked deeply in my eyes, "That's just what I wanted to hear."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'em….if I did, Sara would never leave.**

She slid her arms around me as I climbed into the bed beside her. "Where ya been, sexy?" she asked as she kissed my shoulder.

"I had an errand to run after shift," I lied. "It took longer than I expected."

Her hands started to move southward as her kisses became more insistent.

"I'm really tired, Cath. It's been a long night," I said as covered her hand with mine and guided it back to my stomach.

"No problem, sweetie," she said as she tightened her grip on me and gave me a final kiss.

I lay there ensconced in her embrace and plagued my guilt ridden conscience. Only an hour earlier I had been in Sofia's arms, or more precisely, she had been in mine.

Long after Catherine's breathing had evened out and she had drifted back to sleep, I still lay there, wide awake pondering the predicament I had put myself in.

When Sofia left, a piece of me died. Our relationship had been, according to her, brief, lasting less than a year. For me, it was intense and passionate. I failed to comprehend why and how she could walk away from me the way she did. In the end, it didn't matter what I wanted, she needed a change of scenery and a new work environment. So, she left Vegas—and me.

And I moved on. For some ungodly reason, Catherine and I found a happy medium. We quit bickering, fighting and backbiting long enough to find some happiness in one another's company. And it was good.

It was very good until two weeks ago. Two weeks ago Sofia showed back up in Vegas. She had gotten all she needed out of Boulder City and came back once a position had opened up in the LVPD.

She had kept her distance the first few days. Then she called. She called every day for a week. Never once did I answer. The message she had left for me at the beginning of my shift said that she'd stop by and see me afterwards.

I wasn't surprised to look up and see her standing there while Catherine was fucking me. I was, however, surprised that she chose to stand there and watch. I had never pegged her at voyeuristic. And afterwards, well, let's just say that I am glad I decided to go by her apartment.

But now I'm torn. Do I go on living the life I was building with Catherine or begin anew a relationship with Sofia?

XXXXX

"Is there anything you want to tell me?" Catherine demanded as she stood over me, my phone in her hand.

I tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes and will myself to wake up completely—and quickly.

"What? I'm still trying to sleep here, Cath." Playing innocent and ignorant were my best options.

"Like I give a fuck! What am I talking about? I'm talking about the messages on your phone?" she threw the phone at me.

"What are you talking about?" I asked as I picked up my phone.

She was pacing back and forth, practically foaming at the mouth in anger. "_I miss you. Love, S_. Does that ring a bell?"

"What the fuck, Catherine. You've been going through my messages?"

"Your phone had been beeping for the last 30 minutes. I thought that maybe Grissom was trying to get in touch with you. I merely picked up your phone to see who was being so insistent," Catherine answered as she crossed her arms over her chest and assumed her customary intimidating stance.

"So why not bring me my phone? I could have checked my messages myself. What right did you have to go through my phone?" I was furious that she would invade my privacy like she had.

"Don't avoid my question, Sara. Is there anything you want to share with me?"

I threw the covers off of me and slid out of bed. "Nope, nothing at all. I'm going to get a shower now."

She blocked my path. "Who?"

"Who what?" I was growing tired of her accusations, despite how true they might be.

"That's right! Go ahead and play dumb now," she poked me in the chest. "Who sent you these messages?"

"What difference does it make who sent me the messages? I'm here with you right now," I offered.

"_I miss you…I need to feel you…come back to me…I need you so much it hurts…_Do I need to go on? Are you fucking kidding me?" she asked as she pushed me.

I had known Catherine long enough to know that barely arguing with her would make her even angrier. Yet, this is the path I chose.

Taking a couple of steps backwards, I calmly responded. "I'm here. I'm not with someone else. So, once again, what difference does it make who's sending me messages?"

She was incensed that I was being so passive. "You fuck someone else and I'm supposed to be happy that you're here? Are you fucking kidding me? Have you recently hit your head? Been diagnosed with a brain tumor? I mean, seriously, is something wrong with you?"

Now it was my turn to go on the offensive.

Throwing my hands up, I stepped backwards, "Whoa! What makes you think I fucked someone else? What gives you the right to accuse me of fucking around?"

"Whoever is sending you those text messages—that's what—no who--gives me the right," she said through clenched teeth.

I took a step towards you her and placed a hand on either shoulder, "Cath, baby, what are you talking about?"

She slapped my hands away, "Don't touch me. Don't fucking touch me."

"Who do you think is calling me or sending me messages?"

Eyes brimming with tears of anger she bit her lip before spitting, "I don't know. Why don't you tell me who the bitch is that's calling you and telling you that she wants to ….that she wants…"

"Let it go," I warned her.

"Let it go? LET IT GO? You're fucking around and I'm supposed to just _let it go_?"

"Catherine, dear, it's not important. Just let it go. It's nothing for you to worry yourself over."

"You're fucking around. You're fucking me over," she punctuated each sentence with a shove.

I let her push me around. "Believe what you want, Catherine. Just because she calls me. Because she leave me messages. You ASSUME that I'm fucking around. What happened to trust, Cath? What have I done to cause you not to trust me?"

I crossed the room to the bedside table and picked up my cell phone. I tossed it to her. "Here check it. Check my sent messages. Check the calls I've made."

She looked down at the phone in her hands and then away from me.

"No, I insist, Catherine. Since I'm some two-timing whore, go ahead and check behind me."

Her lips were moving, but no sound was coming from them.

"I'm sorry, you'll have to speak up if you want me to understand you."

"I said I already did."

I rolled my eyes, "And what did you find? What did you find, Cath?"

She stared at her feet and mumbled, "Nothing."

"That's right! You found nothing because there is nothing to find. I haven't done anything for you to find."

Defeated, she looked in my eyes, "I've been down this road before. I won't do it again. So help me god if I find out…"

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to me. "There's no one else, right?" she asked.

I kissed her forehead and said, "There's only you babe. As for that errand I was running this morning," I walked back toward the bedside table and pulled out a box, tossing it to her. "I was planning on giving this to you tonight, but now's a good a time as any."

She looked down at the box in her hands and then back to me.

"Go ahead. Open it," I told her.

With shaky hands, she lifted the lid of the box and gasped. "Oh my," she sobbed. "Sara, it's…"

I took the necklace from her hands and moved behind her, fastening it around her neck. "It's not much, but I wanted to get you something."

"It's beautiful," she said as her fingers delicately traced over the curves of the pendant.

Moving to stand in front of her I let my fingers move over the necklace and up her throat and to the nape of her. I pulled her closer to me and let my lips hover over hers.

"I love you," she whispered against my lips before pressing hers to mine.

I pulled back from the kiss, "Okay, I'm going to take that shower now." I turned to walk away from her. She grabbed my hand and pulled me back to her.

"The shower can wait. Let me thank you properly for my gift," she said with a raised eyebrow.

"Let me take a shower first," I pleaded.

She pushed me down on the bed and straddled me, "You can once I'm done with you." Her hands were moving under my shirt as her lips caressed whatever flesh she could find.

I closed my eyes and let her _thank _me. One thought resonated in my head. _ This was almost too easy._


End file.
